


Suitable Alternative Transport

by WyattM



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Cuddling, International Police, Looker being sort of dramatic, M/M, Mention of sexual acts, Seasickness, Vomit, crude language, migraines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-01-10 10:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyattM/pseuds/WyattM
Summary: The International Police cheaps out and sends 000's team home by cargo freighter.  Embarrassingly, 100kr finds out he's prone to seasickness.Now with second chapter, that is really just first chapter but with 000.





	1. Suitable Alternative Transport

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: Vomit, migraines w/o auras, mentions of sexual acts, no actual sexual content

100kr discovered, the hard way, that sea travel did not agree with him.  

Due to the rather large team the International Police had disembarked for the previous mission, and their subsequent scattering to other destinations in and about a second region, a high level decision had been made to _not_ send them home via commercial aircraft as was typical.  Logistics found them 'suitable alternative transport' on a container ship leaving Lilycove City for Johto. Cost cutting measures and the like were sighted on the official conference call, forcing their comms man, RK99, to protect his radio equipment from the mass temper tantrum of eight other IP operatives desperate to continue onto other business. 100kr instead sat in the corner, excited about the prospect in quiet contrast to the rest of his team. He'd never traveled on a boat before.  

100kr was wrong in his excitement, and ‘didn't agree’ might have been something of an understatement. Sea travel was a special hell. Instead of playing poker and swapping occupational horror stories with the crew like the rest of his teammates, the agent gained an intimate understanding of the concept of 'twelve to sixteen foot heave, give or take'. 100kr gave up the idea he'd do anything that evening besides lean over a handrail for the next three or four days.  

The agent's stomach ached, the remains of his lunch attempting to expel overboard, and worse, a migraine raged somewhere behind his left eye, brought on by the up-down of the waves and dehydration from his inability to hold down fluids. His balance threatened to give way with every dip of the floor beneath him. Even if he could risk walking away from the only socially acceptable point on this ship to be sick from, his legs couldn't carry him far. Left with no better option, 100kr grasped the railing like a man hanging from the side of a cliff and waited for Goldenrod City.

"100kr, you all right?" their team lead, 000, asked from somewhere behind him.  

A wave of cigarette smoke hit 100kr about the same time as the words.  Before he could communicate to his supervisor that he was perfectly, 100% fine, he reduced to his knees, vomiting over the side of the boat as he went. The smell made nerves in his head throb past the point of coherent thought and the younger agent babbled a response in an unidentifiable language.

It _had_ to be 000 to stumble upon him in this state, out of the mass party of International Police members capable of retrieving the pitiful and violently ill agent. It had to be 000 on a smoke break as well.  Humiliation in front of his supervisor (...among other designations the senior agent may or may not hold) wasn't enough, intense nauseating migraine had to be thrown into the equation.

Moreover, he'd been attempting, with rather great success, to _avoid_ that particular senior agent this entire mission.

"Guess not," 000 responded, flicking his half-consumed cigarette over the railing before grabbing 100kr by the armpits and putting him as close to standing as possible. 100kr had quite a few inches on the team lead, and the best 000 could manage was enough space for 100kr to get his feet back on the ground. "Cripes, didn't realize you got seasick."

"I did not either," 100kr groaned, doubling over and trying not to breathe.  Every breath somehow makes the pain behind his eye radiate through the rest of his head.

The senior agent crouched next to him, rubbing his back and bringing the lingering noxious smell closer.  100kr had never been bothered by cigarette smell before and yet, at the most inopportune moment imaginable, it's somehow magnified the pain of sea travel to an unrelenting degree. He wanted nothing more than to fall over and curl up in a ball on the deck until Goldenrod City in three days, or better yet, to fall overboard and save himself the embarrassment in front of 000, of all possible agents.

"Let's get you inside," the team lead's words were more of an order than a suggestion, "Captain mentioned they spotted a squall, best not to be caught out in it."

100kr nodded but said nothing and made no movements.  His conscious mind knew he should pick himself up, but the pain behind his eye prevented his legs from listening to his conscious mind and what little balance he could keep threatened to evaporate any second anyway. His stomach churned with the thought of holing up in the windowless quarters, away from a horizon he could watch in misery.

Decisive as always, 000 didn't allot much of a chance for 100kr to form a contrary argument.  He pulled the junior agent up with him, shoving himself underneath 100kr's shoulder and forcing him to lean on the shorter man. "Lessgo, no point in getting soaked," he grumbled, dragging 100kr across the deck more than guiding him.

100kr's head spun with the sudden elevation change and his lunch (whatever left of it there might be, he didn't recall eating as much as he'd expelled that day) threatened to come up at him. He fought the urge to vomit as 000 brought him past lines of cargo containers. Despite the constant repositioning of their inertial reference frame and the wind whipping around rows of cargo, 000 stayed steady on his feet. 100kr couldn't believe as the team lead trudged along. It was as if they were walking through the IP headquarters’ courtyard on a blustery day, and 100kr just happened to be dying over his shoulder for no well-specified reason.

Perhaps, of course, this is why 000 reached the level of senior agent. The International Police business left little room for any sort of phasing, whether by the environment or otherwise. A rough boat ride shouldn't phase 100kr either, and, through his raging stomach and the stabbing pain behind his eye, he was furious at his ineptitudes.

"Which room did they stick you in?" 000 asked as he leaned 100kr against the stairwell landing in order to roll the watertight door to the quarters closed behind them.

"4... 407..." 100kr managed to reply. The fluorescent indoor lighting twisted the migraine through his head like a rusted knife, and the lack of wind meant the cigarette smell hung to grate against the nerve endings it exposed in the process.  His legs buckled and his equilibrium, or lack thereof, threatened to bring him back to the floor and down a few flights of stairs.

407 was somewhere below them. 000 sighed as he did a mental calculation of just _how_ to facilitate getting his compromised teammate down two flights of stairs without killing either of the two.  In the end, he half-gestured, half-shoved 100kr down first, the junior agent gripping the rail in panic as the ship's rock threatened to sling him over it. His gut wrenched at the movement and his throat filled with acid, but he took a breath of cigarette smell and let the pain settle behind his eye instead.

"I got you, don't worry," 000 said as he grabbed 100kr by the upper arm.  

The words came of almost no reassurance, but 100kr took another step down. The process was slow going. 100kr cross checked, over a pounding head and sloshing stomach and arms that might not keep him attached to the railing if the ship jolted just one more time, that both feet were planted on each step before attempting the next one.  If 000 found the hesitation annoying, he made no mention of it.

Surely, he found it annoying. 100kr was annoyed at how slow something so simple as walking down stairs had become.  He was an elite agent of the International Police. Stairs should not be an obstacle. Ships should not be an obstacle. Yet somehow, here he was, a humiliating example of an agent further humiliating himself in front of _000_ of the possible senior agents within the International Police to humiliate himself in front of. Perhaps the seasickness might yet kill him, saving him potential further embarrassment. The panic over the sheer fact that 000 would never want his weak constitution on a mission again made him almost forget the nauseating pain long enough to ignore the two flights of stairs.

"You sure you're just seasick? You're shaking," 000 asked once they reach the correct landing.  "I can go find the medic."

100kr shook his head, which knocked him far enough off balance that he required a conveniently placed doorframe to save him from total collapse. He caught it just as the team lead lunged for him.  The junior agent flushed with the embarrassment of 000 morphing into an essential element of his physical stability. "It... It is nothing," he breathed.

"All right then." 000 led him down the hall to his room, 100kr wobbling every slow step of the way. The pain in his head seemed to explode from the cigarette smell and the fluorescent lights, and his stomach felt ready to turn inside-out every time the hallway bucked. His throat filled with acid, and he burst into a run before his door, unable to hold the seasickness any longer. He barely reached the bathroom before collapsing to his knees throwing up what little he had left in him (really, 100kr couldn't remember eating this volume in the past 24 hours).

000 stood in the doorway as the junior agent wiped his mouth with a washcloth included in the linen supply the ship's crew provided each of the IP members in an inconsiderate heap upon boarding. "Cripes, you sure you don't need the medic? They probably have some dramamine."

100kr shook his head, staring at the linoleum flooring in defeat. He shouldn't need dramamine. He just needed a stronger constitution. 000 took no issue in the ship's wild rock, the man could likely run laps around the deck. 100kr should be the same. The humiliation of not being the same hurt worse than every physical pain that burned through him in the last few hours.

000 crouched down next to him, adding insult to injury in the form of another pat on the back. "It'll be all right, the sea's supposed to calm down tomorrow. Where'd Croagunk go off to? I'll bring him back here."

"He wanted to stay in his ball. Too much for him as well," 100kr shrugged. Croagunk held less issue with the movement than he did with his trainer's repeat vomiting. 100kr couldn't blame him for wanting to stay tucked away, uninvolved.

"Ah, fair I guess. You need help getting to bed or do you need to stay here for a bit?"

Having a senior agent, particularly 000, fuss over him forced a heavy flush through 100kr's face.

"I will stay here," he mumbled in response, though the urge to vomit again wasn't as potent as the urge for 000 to remove himself from the situation. Unlike the main deck, his cabin came with a lock. If need be, he could force 000 to not witness more of 100kr's deficiencies with ship travel.

With another less-than-reassuring pat on the back and the strategic placement of the small room's wastepaper basket next to the bottom bunk of the bed, 000 excused himself.  

100kr breathed a sigh of relief and laid his head on the lip of the toilet. The cold porcelain soothed some of the stabbing behind his eye, despite the harsh fluorescence above. It had to be 000 to find him. RK99 and THTT were smokers as well, they could have stumbled upon the miserable junior agent at any point earlier in the evening.  Half the crew of the ship could have found him. Instead, 000 had to discover his miserable hiding place; the team lead he almost avoided interaction with for the entire mission.

At least 100kr held no more uncertainty as to why 000 hadn't spoken to him in months. 100kr was an embarrassment of an agent, the fact rung clear. Six months ago had been a hideous mistake on 000's part. Case closed, it just took 100kr six months to realize the full extent of his ineptitude as an agent.

Groaning in pain, 100kr lifted his head from the soothing toilet rim and unbuttoned his dress shirt, stuck to him from a mix of sweat, sea spray, and flecks of vomit.  It was discarded to a corner of the tiny cabin bathroom, followed by his slacks, boxers, and socks. His shoes went just outside the bathroom door, arranged in as orderly of a manner possible while still half-laying on the floor in front of the toilet. His head spun as the agent lifted himself back to sitting-ish, and his stomach churned as he crawled into the shower and drew the curtain.

Six months ago, he repeated in his head as he reached to turn on the water, was a hideous mistake. The two agents partook in a mistaken number of drinks after the success on their mission in Snowpoint City. The cold and the residual effects of the alcohol led to a mistaken amount of physical support of each other on the trudge back to the hotel. The leaning led to a hideous mistaken decision on 100kr's part to kiss his team lead in the elevator to their room, which led to the even more mistaken decision on 000's part to kiss him back. This morphed into more mistaken kissing all the way through the hotel room door and into bed and then onto more very, very mistaken decisions on 000's part, since 100kr was the sort of failure and embarrassment who did not deserve that sort of attention from the best agent in the International Police.

100kr reached up and turned the temperature knob to cold at the memory. The ice bath at least helped quell the fire burning under his eye, though the sudden temperature change threatened to bring up the contents of his stomach again, they stayed down.

The agent drew his knees to his chest and pressed his stabbing eye against them. That memory hurt more every time it replayed in his mind. At first, the thoughts had been lovely-- the thought of 000's mouth on places 100kr never imagined another person would touch, of 000's knuckles turning white as he grasped the bed's headboard, of 000's head buried into the junior agent's chest, muttering that 100kr didn't know how long he'd wanted their engagement. The evening (as well as what little of the next morning could be allocated before a hasty departure) played out finer than any of 100kr's midnight fantasies could conjure.

As time trudged onwards, the memories went rather sour.

They'd kissed once on their next mission, in a quiet break while on reconnaissance in Fuschia City. The bliss lasted all of thirty seconds, when the trainee agent accompanying the two required attention again and the two agents wordlessly concluded that such behavior would have to go on unspecified hold. They passed each other once in the breakroom on the twelfth floor some weeks afterwards, exchanging pleasantries. Another month passed until 100kr found himself selected for one of 000's missions in Ilex Forest, along with four other agents and a large shared tent as housing.

And then, nothing. 000's name never appeared on the "upcoming missions" board next to the breakroom on the twelfth floor. He remained absent from his desk at the main office. 100kr never ran into him around Saffron, though he had his doubts anyway, that 000 even lived in the city (despite the official terms of contract, the senior agents were known to eschew the living requirement and take up residence wherever they pleased). For a time, the junior agent wasn't certain 000 remained with the International Police.

The large mission 000 lead now more or less clarified the point-- 100kr didn't even share a cabin with him now. Their encounter had been a mistake, the reasoning lying in 100kr's ineptitude as an agent, the illustration in his inability to cope with water travel. The junior agent would be forced to forever console himself with one bittersweet memory, hundreds of fantasies, and constant pining for the best agent in the International Police. It wouldn't be happening again.

The agent reached to shut the water off, before crawling to the available towel and then out of the bathroom. The cabin, matching the bathroom, was small, with just enough room for 100kr to leave his suitcase on a forty-five between the bunkbed and the desk without succumbing to gravity. While the living conditions felt cramped when the agent first surveyed them, the efficiency of such a compact space somewhat eased his attempt to crawl into bed and forget his life.

The cigarette smell lingered, a ghostly trail 000 left behind him wherever he went.

He first fuddled with the latch on his suitcase to retrieve cleaner boxers and his gym shorts (shirt forgone, he could not unearth one in a prompt enough manner to care), before crawling to the thermostat by the door. Bracing himself on the door handle and holding down his stomach contents as the floor bucked, he flipped the thermostat as cold as possible to perhaps circulate the cigarette smell out of the room and away from 100kr's stabbing head pain. His efforts proved to be in vain-- the thermostat appeared to be ornamental as the air conditioning hardly increased. With a groan, he flipped the main overhead light off, leaving the bathroom to guide him back to bed. He debated silencing that as well, to save himself the associated stabbing pain, though the windowless room offered no other light source and 100kr didn't fancy navigating such a tight space in total darkness. Stubbed toes didn't compliment the rest of the agent's pitiful state.

The agent collapsed in a heap on top of the blankets in the bottom bunk, ignoring the bunk’s privacy curtain and failing to arrange the provided pillowcase over the flattened pillow.  The pillowcase's cleanliness was as questionable as the pillow's anyway. Clean or no, 100kr wrapped his arms around it and tried his best to fall asleep despite the urge to vomit again. From another cabin, somewhere adjacent but the direct location unknown, the evening news blasted through the thin walls.  Perhaps it was beneficial 000 actualized his mistakes-- while 100kr had been rather proud of the moans 000 made, nearly enough to overshadow the fact that passerby overhearing the engagement would cost them their jobs, 100kr himself had been rather squeaky.

No sense sacrificing his career and having the entirety of the team learn that fun fact.

He shook his imagination out of him and tried to ignore the newscaster's report of a fire in a Celadon apartment and the outcome of the Unovan baseball championships, focusing instead on the creak of the fiberglass room and the shake of the curtain. 000 came to the correct conclusions, both for his dignity's sake and their careers. 100kr tried to remind himself of that instead of remember things. The ship knocked him all over the tiny twin bed, threatening to relocate him on top of his suitcase and ruining his fantasy that the sorry excuse for a pillow was 000.

\--

100kr woke to the sudden brightness moreso than the sound of the door opening. He lurched upwards with immediate regret. The migraine in his head returned with a vengeance just seconds before his stomach seized, and what felt like full minutes before 100kr registered why the door opened at all.

"Just checking on you," 000's voice whispered, the figure a shadow in the contrast with the hall light. He shut the door behind him, the uninterpretable concern across his face illuminating in the bathroom light.

Questions bubbled from within 100kr, though they surfaced in the form of potential vomit.  The junior agent pushed past his team lead for the toilet, collapsing in front of it with the ship's crash downwards. He dry heaved for a painful change of pace.

"No better, huh?" commented 000, sitting in the bathroom doorway.

100kr shook his head between attempts to expel his stomach. Nothing came but some acrid spitup. "Not while this still moves."

000 chuckled, putting his hand on the junior agent's back in a misguided attempt at pitiful solidarity. "I suppose not."

100kr's forehead met the toilet rim, the migraine pain less subsiding as much as exchanging with the pain of smacking his head on ceramic with an overestimation of the changing distance. He failed to lock the door and the senior agent returned for an additional confirmation that 100kr was indeed a mistake. His worst nightmares both realized and accompanied by the worst physical pain he had felt to date, the junior agent decided to be done-- surrendered to the abject cruelty of their return trip. He'd suffice for never, ever seeing the senior agent again if the pain could clear before reaching Goldenrod and 000 could depart from the tiny cabin, leaving 100kr to his pathetic misery.

"C'mon, I brought you some juice," 000 told him, pulling him from the toilet by the shoulder, "You need to drink something."

In fact, juice sounded wonderful. 100kr hadn't drank anything in hours, not since the seasickness overtook him, and the rampant dehydration couldn't be helping any of his current states. If it remained within him, it might yet alleviate some of the pain radiating behind his eye. With help from 000, the junior agent pulled himself to a wobbling stand and allowed him to lead back to the bottom bunk, a firm grip on his arm keeping him firmly planted the two feet across the floor. The two swayed side by side, feet on the cold linoleum floor, as 000 fumbled with the cap on an orange juice pulled from a hidden pocket in his sweatpants.

At least someone had turned the television off, so one less sensory overload would grate against his stabbing headache.

"Who'd they stick you with anyway?" 000 asked as he managed to break the bottle's seal, handing it to the other agent and gesturing with his chin at the top bunk.

100kr took a small sip, testing for immediate rejection by his stomach. "33Ylk," he muttered, closing his pained eye and trying to shield it from the bathroom light, "The captain objected to a mixed-gender cabin per company policy and moved her elsewhere, however."

"Shit, so you're by yourself?" 000 grumbled, grabbing 100kr's thigh as the ship crashed into a large wave and threatened to send the two flying into the desk, "I'm gonna kill RK99, I'd rather he stuck me with you anyway."

Despite the altitude changes, 100kr's stomach made no protest to the orange juice. The second swig was much larger, the agent's thirst winning over his self control.  He hadn't realized how dry and acid-burnt his mouth felt until the first sip. "Who are you sharing a room with?" the agent asked his supervisor out of polite conversation. The answer, he knew he did not desire; it would just bring about some inappropriate jealousy of an otherwise innocent colleague.

"Nobody now," he shrugged, "4590 locked me the hell out and I can't wake him up for the life of me."

"That is... unfortunate," the junior agent tried to register all the words and translate them past the ache in his head. The mental process went slow with the rage behind his eye, which burned a little brighter thanks to the added sweetener in the orange juice. He squeezed at his eyebrow in a futile attempt to subside some pain.  Instead his eyebrow stung along with everything else.  "You could stay here, if you require it."

"I might do that," the team lead responded, before an abrupt change of subject, "Head bugging you too?"

100kr nodded as he gave up on his eyebrow and took another, larger, gulp of juice. Sugar be damned. "Migraine."

"Cripes. Shit way to travel, huh?"  He reached arm around his report in a pitiful, friendship-recognition sort of manner. "About as soon as I got done with you, Er301 threw up on 33Ylk and then Rk99 had the poor sense to be sick into a recycle bin, so I had to hear about that.  And 4590 and Abj7 have been moaning since this damn thing took off, though they're both at least out now. THTT is still up somewhere, hope the motherfucker doesn't fall overboard trying to smoke. Got waves crashing over the main deck."

The words piqued 100kr's interest. The rest of the team fell ill, just as he did. "Everyone else is sick?"

"About damn near all of them." The senior agent ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair in exasperation. "Sorry, I was gonna bring this by a while ago and had to deal with the rest of them.  Fuckers should have just flown us home…"

The junior agent's muscles relaxed, his stomach untensed, and while his migraine thundered, it felt somewhat less potent and its radiations down his nerve endings retracted. "You are okay?"

000 chuckled. "Grew up on an island. I'm used to this shit. Still, this one's worse than most."

The words come as some reassurance that 100kr's ineptitudes lie somewhere beyond his weak constitution. Perhaps it's even something fixable. Perhaps it's something as mundane as his status as a junior agent (fraternization among senior agents was frowned upon yes, but like with most of the policies, the senior agents disregarded the frowning).

"Perhaps that is reassuring," 100kr thought aloud, taking a larger sip of juice and almost draining the bottle. "...I wish this did not hurt."

The other man shrugged, fumbling through the linen pile 100kr had discarded on the floor by the bed. "Not much to do but sleep it off."

The junior agent nodded just as tremendous buck of the ship sent 000 crashing into him, knocking the two agents into the bed.  100kr's head fell just short of cracking against the wall, though it made no difference because the pain behind his eyes still rang through him. The team lead fell with a solid thump onto the other agent, and while 100kr groaned at the momentum crashing into his sensitive stomach, he couldn’t react beyond lying in dizziness. The support beams to the bed above blurred together in the limited light, before the entire fuzzy underside of the top bunk moved back-forth-up-down with the rest of the ship.

000 pulled his weight off him at the groan, though he spoke before he removed himself. "Shit, sorry about that."

"It... it is all right." 100kr wanted to curl into a ball and wilt away into his terrible pillow.

His orange juice disappeared from his hand, removed by 000 who placed it on the desk as he stood. "Lie down, I'll get you tucked in."

Taking the unused pillowcase to the bathroom, 000 turned the sink on for reasons unknown. 100kr kicked the covers to the end of the bed and shut his eyes, trying to diminish the pain from the fluorescent light.  Instead, it left him with a keen awareness of the free fall every time the ship overcame another wave.

000 shut the light to the bathroom and fumbled his way over to the bottom bunk. The room went cave-dark. 100kr opened his eyes and needed to double check that he'd performed the action with any success. The outline of the top bunk's support beams had disappeared into the darkness, as did the bottom bunk's unused curtain. His should have dug his alarm clock out of his bag for some illumination, though the white LEDs cutting through solid dark would wreak havoc within his head. He had to admit, the darkness helped.

"You do not need the light?"

"I'll be alright without it." The team lead groped for the edge of the bed, feeling along until he had a sense of 100kr's outline. 100kr scooted as far as he could towards the fiberglass cabin wall, leaving a polite amount of bed for 000 could squeeze himself into, since 000 seemed intent. Two grown men did not fit in a twin sized bunk, though 000 managed to join him halfway. One foot stayed planted on the floor beyond the diagonal suitcase, one leg lay pressed against 100kr, making his cheeks run hot with blush. At least the lights were off so the team would never notice.

The familiar cigarette smell didn't envelope the two as expected. Instead the dull scent of dryer sheets and toothpaste hit 100kr, failing to send his migraine twisting through every nerve above his neck. The agent breathed a small sigh of relief that his headache might yet reach a manageable level and shut his eyes.

"Here, this always helps me," 000 half-mumbled, the bed creaking as he made himself comfortable against the wall by 100kr's head. He laid the wet, rolled up pillowcase over 100kr's eyes with surprising aim in this level of darkness, which made the other agent jolt a bit. The cold bit against the migraine, dulling his frayed nerves and seeming to corral the pain to one localized position directly underneath his eye. His stomach churned again around the orange juice, though nothing threatened to regurgitate.

A hand appeared somewhere around the other side of 100kr, and with a moment of hesitation, 000 half-pushed the junior agent away from the wall and against his hip, before reducing to a light grasp around his elbow.  If 100kr didn't understand better and 000 wasn't a man who realized his mistakes, he'd imagine the awkward touch was the team lead's best attempt at a hug with one person lying down in a miserable seasick heap and the other person sitting with only half of themselves on the bed. The physical contact comforted him, if for no more than a distraction from the nauseating movement of their surroundings.

100kr tried to move his head so as to not dampen 000 with the pillowcase eyecover, though the other man seemed to lean into him every time he readjusted himself.  The boat rocked him halfway into the team lead's lap anyway; additional efforts to keep his sweatpants dry were in absolute futility with the ship’s slosh.  This couldn’t be a comfortable arrangement for 000.  It wouldn't be long, 100kr knew, before he climbed into the top bunk or (more likely) departed 100kr's cabin for more suitable lodging.  The top bunk had no linens, he would prefer elsewhere.

"Get some sleep." 000’s words came across as gentle, and yet still an order. "It'll be better once we get out of this storm."

His order seemed impossible as the team lead's free hand groped down the side of 100kr.  He froze at the touch, his face turning red-hot and threatening to steam the wet pillowcase. The hand traveled across the agent's chest and stomach until it found 100kr's and grabbed it.  He took a deep breath, in vain attempt to prevent his heart from beating hard enough for 000 to notice.

"Just try to sleep," 000 repeated, his voice growing drowsy. Without seeming aim, he rubbed the back of the other man's hand with his thumb and started to slump.  

The ship bucked again, and he jumped to attention, pushing 100kr closer to him and tightening his grip. The movement felt secure and protective enough to encourage the other agent into some relaxation.  000 didn't hold contempt for the younger agent, at least not for reasons relating to seasickness.  He had some unknown multitude of other issues for 100kr to unearth, perhaps tomorrow when his head was clear and his stomach did not hurt so much and perhaps he could eat something and maybe relax a little without the pain behind his eyes and in his stomach.

Somewhere among the dryer sheet smell and the cool cloth over his stabbing eye and the feeling of 000 against him, 100kr forgot the ship's slosh and the knots in his stomach long and 000's terrible mistakes long enough to pass out in neurotic exhaustion.

\--

The migraine broke sometime around presumable dawn, awakening 100kr with a jolt. The heavy dark of the cabin startled him.  His eyes were useless; he couldn't make out as much as an outline of his fingers in front of him.  Seedy motels and IP approved tents never reached this level of dark and he required a few extra moments to register his surroundings and the evening leading up to dozing off.

The agent lay sandwiched against the cabin's fiberglass wall, the cold somewhat containing the ache in his stomach, with an arm overtop of him pinning him to the bed underneath the blankets.  He didn't remember using blankets. The pillow underneath him had turned somewhat damp and flatter (if possible), though the pillowcase from earlier had disappeared into the impenetrable dark surrounding him. Hopefully it had not landed in his suitcase.

Behind him, 000 stirred against the other man, squeezed onto the bed with him by a hair's margin. "Feeling any better?" He grumbled as his arm retracted against 100kr's chest, pulling him away from the wall and attempting to push him down towards the bed.  His attempts fell short of lackluster in his half-sleep; he relied on gravity more than what little strength he could rally in this state.

"I suppose a bit," 100kr responded, laying his head back down on the pillow in an attempt to not disturb his supervisor further. His drowsiness outweighed the need to inquiry why and how the team lead squeezed into the bottom bunk, but at this hour, it felt less than pertinent. The question could wait until proper morning.  000 was team lead and the most senior agent in the group; he was permitted to sleep where he pleased, perhaps.

"That's good." The hand overtop searched over his chest and down his arm until it found 100kr's hand. 000 intertwined their fingers as his face nuzzled between the other agent's shoulder blades. "Lessgo back to sleep..."

100kr started to ask if 000 would prefer more suitable sleeping arrangements, perhaps ones that did not involve two grown men squashed together in a twin bed, but decided elsewise. No reason to question the senior agent's decisions, not at this moment anyway. It could wait until proper morning. In any case, the smaller agent's chainsaw snoring began again and left 100kr no chance to do so without being rude. He snored a frightful amount for such a small person.  100kr’s stomach churned and grumbled in protest of existing, but something about the senior agent’s chest expanding against 100kr’s back and the cool fiberglass in front of him made the junior agent forget the bother. 000’s fingers slacked against 100kr’s as he slipped into a dream, though the agent couldn’t muster the strength nor will to pull his hand away. Hand-holding felt nice anyway, 100kr learned this six months ago. 

While not ideal, perhaps the cargo ship did serve as suitable alternative transport method after all.  The ship's rock felt more like a gentle hammock by this hour, which combined with the rhythmic snores started to lull him into a peaceful, unpained sleep.  100kr could certainly never fall asleep wrapped in 000 on a commercial aircraft.


	2. A Shit Way to Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this seems a lot like the previous chapter, that is because it is literally the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Vomit, cursing, discussion of sexual situations, implied sexual acts, crude language, and 000's pushy not-really-consensual flirting methods (I don’t condone this, but when I thought about it, 000 really is just playing press-your-luck with 100kr).

A pile of timesheets, a much-needed shower, and a good, old-fashioned, come-to-Arceus ass chewing were about all that separated 000 from apologizing to 100kr over the turn the last few months took.  He needed to apologize, 100kr had been avoiding him the entire mission.  Every time 000 had a free minute alone (and Bulu knows, there had been many- the last few weeks had _creeped_ ), the agent was nowhere to be found.  He'd even worked up the gall to ask _without reason_ if any of the assholes sitting around had seen the sonofabitch (he asked plenty of times with bullshit reasons, but 100kr did so much disappearing he started to have trouble conjuring one).

It was definitely the turn of the last few months, and nothing more to do with 000.  Had to be, they'd gotten along great in Fuschia.  If the brass hadn't shoved him a third agent greener than a summer's day and just as helpless, things would have continued as planned.  It's hard to shove a hand up a man's shirt though with a trainee appearing every fifteen seconds asking how to use the comm unit (which thankfully, 100kr handled since 000 didn't have a clue).  Ilex… well Ilex had been an outright disaster, but it had been a disaster for reasons besides not getting laid.  100kr felt the aftershocks from that one himself, that must've explained his mood once they reported in.

And then he found himself assigned on a solo undercover mission, blew said cover, and almost died.  Twice.  He wasn't in the mood to do anything more than get wasted and pass out on his couch after that one.  He couldn't be expected to call the agent out of the blue, much less take the man out on a date.

He had, in absolute truth, been intending on… well, at least on a second hookup.  If 100kr wanted a date than maybe a date.  Bulu knows, 000 had more than surplus cash with all the hours he'd clocked.  First he needed to _explain_ himself and offer a reasonable apology on behalf of the terrible upper management that did this to them.

The fact of the matter remained, however, that 100kr knew better than to behave that way, distaste to 000's shit couple months aside.  000 took team lead on this mission and it was downright embarrassing that he couldn't venture a guess as to where one of his agents kept disappearing to.  Business first, the man deserved the ass chewing of the century.  000 didn't let agents pull stunts like that, not on his missions.

Then 000 would get lucky.

That is to say, if they could even find a place to do so.  000 couldn't wait to discover who's brain child the cargo freighter belonged to.  The crew somehow held more disdain for the arrangement than the agents themselves, who proceeded to thrash a hotel room over the matter.  Instead of getting home in the morning, like everyone planned on, they'd be home in "three days, give or take".  Three days was another p150 to the kid down the hall to keep watering the plants, and at least 000 didn't have a family he had to warn about the matter like RK99.  The waters were rough for this sort of return journey-  000's pen kept shooting off the desk every time he put it down and 4590's suitcase lay splattered all over the floor of the tight quarters' room from where it had fallen off the top bunk.  A cup of coffee proved out of the question.  000's emptied itself over 4590's suitcase guts during the split-second he put it down to try to find the damn pen.  Not the sort of weather for climbing in someone's lap.

More to the point, the entire team had to share rooms with paper thin walls.  Even if RK99 hadn't stupided all over 000's evening and assigned him to a room with 4590, the two couldn't get up to much of anything.  Not without every agent on the team noticing, which would no doubt result in some writeup.  000 had been written up for worse, true, but 100kr seemed skittish about the potential of being written up for _anything_.  He wouldn't even let 000 put black pepper in the break room coffee as a prank.

Which was unfair, since 000 poured the agent a cup before going for the pepper.  He didn't have any real investment in the situation.  Granted, this had been long before the team lead noticed that the cute new hire didn't have quite the same sense of humor.  If he had, 000 would have dropped the coffee on the other agent's desk and continued.

The point remained.  000 wasn't rooming with 100kr on this little jaunt across the sea and even if the team lead unceremoniously rehomed _whoever_ he'd been placed with (as if team leads hadn't done that to 000 over the years), the agent wouldn't be up for much of anything.

And this entire unrealistic plan hinged on 100kr accepting his apology for flat out disappearing for the last couple months.  The more 000 tried to make sense of the stack of timesheets he needed to process, the less likely that seemed.  His last mission had been much higher level than usual, so he didn't show up on the usual board.  He didn't even have much time to prepare for it himself- he got called out around 5pm as he was strolling out the HQ front doors.  If he'd known, 000 could've made _some kind_ of tentative plan with him.  Nothing fancy, maybe dinner somewhere near HQ (or not, 000 figured the two lived in the same neighborhood).

Well no, then 000 wouldn't have shown back up for two months.  Four months.  However long that mission lasted.  Days were a hard thing to keep track of when tied up and thrown in a Team Rocket basement.

He still owed the kid down the hall money for the plants during that affair, too.  If they'd gone through a real airport, 000 could have stopped an ATM.  Now the team lead would have to win the cash from 4590 in poker, and beating subordinates in illicit gambling was always frowned upon.

First he needed to finish up the paperwork, take a shower, than apologize.  And smoke somewhere in there.  The nicotine withdrawal bit at the back of his brain and made his finger's twitch, but the team lead was determined to finish the consolidating the last of the time sheets.

Correction, the team lead was determined to finishing consolidating the last of the time sheets with the exception of Abj7's, since the handwriting appeared to be no more than random scrawls on the page.  It took the little wherewithal left in 000 not to tear up the stack of sheets and throw the pieces on 4590's suitcase guts.  Legible timesheets should be the bare minimum requirement for getting paid.  Why no one could make that a policy was far beyond 000's comprehension.

The team lead took a deep breath and fingered the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.  He'd smoke, he'd find Abj7 and make him rewrite his timesheets.  Then he'd take a shower.  And then he'd find 100kr and give him his ass chewing.

And then thank him for having nice penmanship.

Before heading out to the upper decks, 000 poked his head under the bed looking for his pokemon.  Sableye had, upon immediate release into the room and noticing the dark underneath of the bed, promptly bolted for it.  It stayed hiding ever since, chewing the rocks 000 had grabbed from a hotel flower bed before the left for the port.

"Going upstairs, you wanna come?"

Sableye cracked open a crystal eye from somewhere in the far corner, but didn't move.

"Guess not," he shrugged before stretching and heading for the door.  Sableye hadn't had a lot of chances for dark quiet this entire mission, it was in heaven now that it could lurk under the bed.  Maybe it would even get excited enough to night shade 4590.

Maybe that would encourage 4590 to _leave_ and he could trade the agent for 100kr.

Before all this though, he needed to apologize, and before he could start any of that, he needed to climb up the ridiculous number of stairs and smoke a cigarette.  The ship may have had only two floors above the main deck, but somehow there were at least four floors of quarters below, and entire floor for the galley and rec room, and still _more_ below (000 would never discover what, since he wouldn't be hiking down to the galley either).  Of RK99's transgressions that evening, putting 000 on the four floor below the deck ranked almost as high as not assigning him a room with 100kr.

RK99's performance review this year would be lackluster, needless to say.

By the time he climbed the four flights and managed to wrench open the watertight door, 000's lungs collected just enough air to light his cigarette.  He took a long drag despite being red in the face, and his brain cooled down somewhat.  The rest of his night would be simple.  Fix the timesheets, take a shower, find 100kr.

The captain walked by him, turning the corner en route back into the quarters.  000 did a quick double take for a smoking signage.  A previously unnoticed posting by the door stated to smoke fifteen meters away from the door.

Too late now, he shrugged as he took another drag and shimmied a little further from the watertight door.  He wasn't even sure how far 15 meters _was._  The captain rolled his eyes at him, further displeased with the lot of unwanted guests.

"Got a few squalls coming off the forward-port," he grumbled as he swung the door wheel open, "Make sure your men stay inside.  I don't want to have to stop because you all were stupid enough to be out here."

"Can do," the team lead shot back, taking another drag.  Hopefully, the entire lot were already hanging out in the rec room.  He could make a quick pass around the deck, stretch his legs one last time, and then go down there.  Abj7 needed to write him a new timesheet anyway.

The agent lit another cigarette off the butt of the first and chucked the stub overboard as he took a stroll past the stack of containers.   Watching the horizon in comparison to the cargo made 000 suddenly aware of the ship's heave.  This weather was _rough_.  Odds were low that the team remembered to buy dramamine before coming onboard, so 000 had to hope that they didn't get seasick.  000 never did; he spent too of his childhood on boats of varying integrity and construction to notice.

Apparently, 000 should have _distributed_ dramamine if he'd wanted any part of his evening to go as planned, because as he turned the corner of a container tower, he skipped a few steps and finally caught up with 100kr.  The man was on his knees, green as the water at port, and clutching the railing for dear life.

100kr.  100kr got seasick.  100kr forgotten what 000 had said earlier at the hotel about dramamine.  The same 100kr who needed an ass chewing and an apology, neither of which 000 would be able to administer to him in this state.

Any kind of post-work interpersonal activity fell off the table as well, even if they could find a reasonable hiding spot.

"100kr, you all right?" 000 asked, holding back the mental curse that he wouldn't be getting lucky until the ship passed the storms.  To think, if they'd flown home, he could be at dinner with a more functional version of the agent right now.

100kr tried to pull himself to full standing as he craned his neck around, though he didn't make it the full way before turning and vomiting off the side of the ship again.

They'd watched a video on marine debris as part of the safety briefing.  This probably counted as marine debris.  The captain would have a fit if he saw one of his men like this.

"Guess not," he said, flicking the half-way finished cigarette overboard.  100kr already contributed to the marine debris anyway, one more cigarette butt would do a damn thing.  There weren't even fish here to get lung cancer from it.  "Cripes, didn't realize you got seasick."

The team would have crushed up the dramamine and put it in 100kr's coffee if he'd known.  100kr looked downright miserable.  000 didn't go about feeling pity for anyone on a whim, but he genuinely felt bad that the agent had been out here for the Tapu-only-knew how long, being sick alone.

100kr doubled over, gripping his stomach.  "I did not either…"

Being from a place where everyone traveled in boats of varying integrity and questionable construction, 000 also had little experience dealing with seasickness.  In theory, this happened to people, yes.  He'd never seen the phenomenon first-hand though, and aside from taking dramamine (which he'd now need to procure from the ship's medic), he wasn't sure how to handle it.  He wasn't even sure how to get 100kr mobilized, but the man needed to go inside before the storms hit.  In this state, the fool would fall overboard.

He settled for crouching down and patting 100kr on the pack.  "Let's get you inside.  The captain mentioned they spotted a squall, best not be caught out in it."

100kr wreched again (though kept everything down, thank the Tapu), so 000 had to get the man's arm over his shoulder and start the process himself.  The agent turned green as 000 pulled him to standing and led him back towards the quarters. He strained as he held down another mouthful of vomit.

"Lessgo, no point in getting soaked," 000 mumbled, praying that he got the man towards a trash receptacle before his stomach came up again.  Of everyone on this ship, 100kr had to get seasick.  It shouldn't have _surprised_ 000; the man looked a little green during turbulent flights as well, and prefered to sit in the front seat on car rides.  The reality brought his plans to a screaming crash he'd still failed to recognize.  He wouldn't be getting lucky, even if 100kr accepted his apology.  He wouldn't even be apologizing.  He'd be lucky if he could keep 100kr from drowning in his own vomit long enough to straighten out Abj7's timesheets.

100kr couldn't voice more than a moan in misery as they hurried across the deck.  Staying upright came with a difficulty; 000 propped him against walls to open and shut the watertight doors to the stairwell.  He threatened to sink every time.

The stairs would be a different challenge.  In some misguided attempt to save space, the ship's stairwell was twice as steep and half as wide as a normal one.  100kr must have outweighed him by close to fifty pounds.  That would do some damage in the collapse he threatened.

"Which room did they stick you in?" 000 asked, trying to calculate how they could do this safely.  Not that he minded breaking the man's fall, but… well, he had limits.  He wanted to screw the man, yes, but the line came somewhere before taking a broken femur for him.

At least because he was too nauseous to descend a flight of stairs.  Firefights, ambuses, full on attacks, maybe, but that gave 000 the story of how he saved one of his subordinates in the process of earning four weeks of medical leave.  If 100kr fell on the stairs, 000 would earn an injury report and an ass chewing.

"4…" the agent struggled to form words, "...407."

RK99 was going to have one _hell_ of a pisspoor performance review this year.

Seething at their comms man, 000 directed the other agent down the stairs.  The ship bucked as soon as he did, his grip retching from 100kr's shoulder.  100kr slammed into the railing, his legs buckling underneath him as he tried to stay on the stair.  The ship continued to rock, further threatening to send him flying down.

 _Whoops_.

 000 grabbed him by the upper arm before he could fall.  His apology would fail if he let 100kr take a tumble.  "I got you, don't worry."

Actually, 100kr should have worried, because 000 had no faith that he could keep hold if the next wave crashed any harder.  He couldn't keep him upright with one arm.  To make matters worse, the junior agent started to shake like a leaf.  By the second flight of stairs 000 worried his arm would start to go numb from it.

The AC didn't work in the stairwells, and the air outside wasn't that cold, even to 000.  100kr had the better cold tolerance, and with his enormous ridiculous coat on (endearing… but ridiculous), shouldn't have been cold.  Maybe it wasn't seasickness.  Maybe the man was legitimate ill and it caught up with him.

He was going to get the ass chewing of the century if he had the flu or something of the like.  Running solo the entire mission had been bad enough.  Running solo with a sensory system compromised by illness could have done him in.  He should have stayed at the hotel if he wasn't feeling well.

Change of plans, 000 decided, it would be a fast chewing.  Flu was good.  Flu was contagious. Flu was something 000 could potentially contract from him, earning a week off.  Laying miserable on the couch hadn't been in his plans for the upcoming week, but if he could transfer the laying on the couch to 100kr's apartment, miserable together didn't sound all that bad.  They could watch a couple movies and nap, instead of partaking in solo mission on the ass end of nowhere that 100kr couldn't tag along on.

 _Cripes_ he was getting old if his idea of a good time was laying around with 100kr for a weekend.  Getting fucked so hard he whited out hadn't even been in that mental fantasy, unlike the last dozen or so.  That thought was nothing but glasses of orange juice, a shared blanket, and crap daytime TV.  The junior agent was _doing something_ to his head.

Unfortunately, to ascertain what, 000 needed to apologize for the last few months and somehow get a second evening with the man.

Maybe it was just age.  Before their evening together, he'd went on two full dates with Maria from accounting before aborting that situation.  In the past he would have climbed out the bathroom window halfway through the first one and never filed another expense report until she transferred.  Hell, in the past, he wouldn't have bothered to go out to dinner with 100kr beforehand.  If he'd wound up on a two-man mission at any other point in his International Police history (or any of his other history), he'd have figured out a way to chat him up in the hallway and saved himself the bill.  Hell, he clammed up at dinner and decided against it right up until it was drunkenly clear 100kr had the same idea he did.  He wouldn't have done that two years ago.

Maria warranted some kind of fake food poisoning though, because she left him flowers while he was gone. 000 had to pray that 100kr hadn't noticed those in his cube.  Granted, if he had, the junior agent would have kindly thrown them out when they started to rot.  He tended to be courteous like that.

"You sure you're just seasick?" 000 asked when they reached the fourth floor landing, shaking the confusion from his head and returning to his hope that 100kr had the flu, "You're shaking."

100kr shook his head so hard he almost fell to the floor.  The team lead propped him back upright.  "It is nothing…" he wheezed.

"All right then," 000 conceded, not sure whether to believe him.  He seemed to struggle for air.  More concerning, he seemed ready to hit the floor with every step to room 407.  If 000 didn't keep a death grip on him, he might have been stuck in the hallway for the rest of the trip.

By the grace of the Tapu, they made it to his room.  100kr threw the door open with a sudden surge in the strength, and tore himself from 000's grip into the bathroom.  The team lead couldn't even step inside and shut the door before he heard him spewing into the toilet.

The junior agent had the courtesy to hold that in for a toilet, at least.  000 had to chuckle at that a bit as he stuck his head in the bathroom doorway.  He'd go through hell and high water to hold himself together, which was more than any other member of the International Police.

It wasn't fair that 100kr of all people forgot to take anything for this.  "Cripes, are you sure you don't need the medic?" 000 suggested.  The ship's crew hated them yes, but the medic must have some obligation to help the poor sob out.  Hippocratic oath and all that.  000 would be happy to sacrifice the rest of his useless team and make the sole medical professional aboard hate them for the sake of 100kr.  Bulu knew, 100kr deserved it.  "They probably have some dramamine."

And 100kr was big enough to take a shot of that without passing the hell out, so 000 could apologize after it kicked in.

100kr didn't speak or make eye contact- only shook his head and wiped his mouth off with a washcloth (which 000 made note of, because his pile of linens didn't include a washcloth).  Not that he was complaining about the lack of washcloth, since 100kr needed it more than him, but if RK99 or 4590 had a washcloth, he would raise Cain later.  RK99 didn't deserve a washcloth.

000 patted him on the back again, causing 100kr to flinch and shift away.  The team lead's heart almost stopped.  Maybe that had been a mistake.

Doubt rushed over him.  100kr maybe _didn't_ want to be around 000.  Maybe he _had_ taken 000's disappearance personally.  Maybe he really wouldn't understand 'hey I got put on a top secret mission by myself for months and forgot to tell you on the way out you know how it goes'.  

In fact, in light of the flinching, 000 noticed that the helpless look in his big doofy eyes was more the helpless of a man _trapped_ in his situation, and less the helplessness of a man unhappy with his situation.  He didn't want 000 here, the team lead realized as his stomach knotted.

_SHIT. Shit shit shit._

"It'll be all right, the sea's supposed to calm down tomorrow," he tried to swallow his nerves.  Up until now, the doubt that 100kr would accept his apology stayed down.  000 made a career out of keeping doubt down, it hadn't taken much.  The sudden rush left him at a loss for the overdue apology, leaving him stabbing at any sort of conversation, apology or otherwise.  "Where'd Croagunk go off to?  I'll bring him back here."

The pokemon could at least comfort him through the seasickness until 000 came up with a properly eloquent plan of attack.  If he tried to say anything about it now, he was apt to clam up and get angry at 100kr.  Not appropriate, yes, but pretty typical 000 behavior.  This was why he climbed out the bathroom window on bad dates. It was preferred to the alternative emotional vomit the man was prone to giving in lieu of being mad at himself.

But up until right now, 000 hadn't considered the possibility that the other man would consider the disappearing an offensive deal breaker.  They were both agents, that had been the appeal in the first place.  000 wasn't stupid enough to think his lifestyle would hold down any proper relationship.  Maria had been a stab at someone who might understand that sometimes he just wouldn't be there, since she worked in building and had to file expense reports from sheer bumblefuck nowhere.  Granted she had been bland as Unovan gas station sushi and with none of the sense of humor that implied, and still tried to call him forty stupid times in Ilex.  100kr, with an actual personality, was a _field agent_ though and could _get_ it.

Except apparently he didn't.

000 thought for a split second that he would have to shove the man out of the way to vomit in the toilet himself.  Then Croagunk would be forced to pat both of them while 000 tried not to spiral in a depressive rage that he'd ruined his one chance at a steady… well a steady whatever.  He'd settle for not fucking him again if that's what it came to, but if he spent any more weekends drunk on the couch by himself Bulu knew 000 would lose his mind.

_FUCK._

"He wanted to stay in his ball," 100kr responded in misery, staring at the floor.  His words yanked 000 out of his spiral of panic.  "Too much for him as well."

 _Fuck me I fucked this one_ , raged through 000's mind.  He shoved it down for a proper response.  "Ah, fair I guess.  You need help getting to bed or do you need to stay here for a bit?" his tone fell all over the place.  Cripes, he couldn't even keep himself _composed_ like the senior agent he should be.

100kr had done something to his head.

Then 000 had done something to 100kr that he might not be able to atone for.

_Fuck._

"I will stay here," the other man muttered, wringing his hands in the one clean part of the washcloth and glaring up at 000 with a 'get the fuck out' sort of stare.  Well, more of a 'please leave I'm begging you', since 100kr tended towards the polite, but the message remained.

_Fuck me, this isn't good._

000 couldn't muster up more than grunt in response, lest his nerves come spilling out of him in a similar manner to 100kr's seasickness.  He gave the other agent another pat on the back and headed towards the door.

The team lead did stop short to put the wastepaper basket by the bottom bunk of the bed.  The Tapu knew, the captain would have a conniption fit if 100kr vomited all over a bed.  000 didn't care so much about that, but he knew 100kr would be courteous and try to sprint for the bathroom again.  He didn't deserve to have to do that.

\--

000 took the world's fastest shower, knocking that from the to-do list while still on the fourth floor.  Usually he lingered in the hot water, zoning out on his day, until it ran lukewarm.  He loved showers.  Right now, the shower didn't succeed at blanking his mind as much as hone in on the way 100kr had stared at him.

What the hell was he supposed to do if 100kr _was_ mad about the last couple months?  Forget the promises he'd made to Bulu that if he got out of that basement alive, he'd take the man on proper dates and stop sleeping with a different person every other night.  000 could live without that (so could Bulu).  If 100kr took the offense personally and didn't want to hook up, he didn't want to hook up.  000 had been dumped before, he'd get over it with booze and due time.  The agent held doubts his teammate liked men anyway (he certainly had never screwed one).

The fuck was he going to do though if 100kr spent the rest of their career avoiding him?   000 wasn't going to find a better sharpshooter, Snowpoint made that clear.  He ran comms well enough (better than RK99).  He did everything 000 needed him to without instruction, even on that last mission, when he had avoiding the team lead the entire time.  He was the best damn agent the International Police had the roster.

While having the man who rejected him tagging along would _suck_ , it beat the hell out of the other idiots.

This apology thing wouldn't be simple, 000 realized in frustration as he punched the shower off.  Whatever he came up with needed to convey that he was sorry, Team Rocket locked him in a basement for a couple months, and if he'd known that in advance, he'd have stopped by 100kr's desk beforehand and mentioned it.

Well, he realized as he pulled his sweats on, that sounded as if he hadn't told 100kr about the mission intentionally.  It hadn't been intentional- 000 forgot.  That sounded even worse.  The forgetting hadn't been intentional, the agent had worked every day in the last six months.  He couldn't even remember to pay the kid down the hall for watering the plants.  Sableye was damn lucky it ate rocks _,_ otherwise it would have starved to death by now.

He'd come up with _something._  First, he wanted to find Abj7 and vent his frustration at his technically-illicit-but-also-failed fraternization mess in the form of obscenities and poorly written timesheets.  And before that, he needed to smoke the last cigarette in his pack (shame to leave that for the morning) and ponder on the apology, which proved to be a bit of a tactical error since he had to hide halfway in the doorway to avoid getting doused.  The rain thundered on the deck, the waves crashing over the edge of the ship.  Watching the horizon, however dark, made the agent keenly aware of how _bad_ this thing heaved.  100kr must have been in absolute hell.  Even Alola rarely had storms this rough.  More than a few of his old friends would have been green in their own right.

The poor junior agent _deserved_ dramamine.  Odds were low he could sleep through this mess.  Moreover, it made 000's plan fall nice and neat.  Chew out Abj7, get some dramamine, bring it to 100kr, mumble a half apology and promise to check on him in the morning.  They could talk about this all when the storm passed, but at least 100kr could stew over some inclination that 000 felt bad.  And he deserved a thoughtful gesture out of 000, even if limited powers of empathy meant it would be nausea medication.

The medic was on the fourth floor. He could save himself a flight of stairs soliciting some dramamine for 100kr, and then stop at the rec room.  Otherwise he'd have to just walk up the stairs to take care of his business.  While he appreciated 100kr enough for a flight of stairs, why not save himself the trouble while he was still heading down.

The medic had his own frustrations to vent, much to 000's aggravation.  The aging sailor looked primed and ready to slap the team lead across the face when he stepped in, asking for dramamine.  "Why don't you go ask your Arceus-damned team where all my dramamine went?" he seethed from his desk at the corner of the medbay, balling his fist, "Which, by the way, we will be billing you for."

"You can't tell me those clowns took it all.  Sounds like you have a stock issue," 000 shot back, not in the mood to hear it.  Not from a man wasting a nursing degree on maybe two dozen men at the peak of health and fitness, anyway.  His skills must have turned to absolute _pus_ out here.

 The medic glared at him over a pair of rimless glasses, "I don't usually have to keep dramamine for a group of _professional sailors_.  Your group was a bit of an unplanned surprise.  Hence why we passed _you_ the instructions to bring your own."

Which in turn, 000 passed to the useless piles of shit that worked for him, and promptly ignored the message.

"Right," the team lead grunted, "I'll go have a chat with them."

"I suggest you do.  Medical bay is off limits to your lot from this point unless one of you starts bleeding out," he retorted, returning to the paperback he had been reading, "And even then we'll only think about it."

000 gave him the finger as he shut the door.  That settled it.  He was going to murder his entire team save 100kr.

The flight of stairs to the rec room didn't register as he flew down them, ready to strangle every last idiot currently working for him.  The last thing he needed was to hear the crew's complaints tonight.  All he had asked of the eight of them was to manage their own business for the three days it would take to travel to Johto.  After that, they were free to act as the human messes they were.  000 didn't have to care after that.  Until the ship made port, however, 000 was still their acting superior and had to take responsibility for their idiocy.

And, of most importance, they'd used all the damn dramamine he could be apologizing to 100kr with.

"You _fucks_ ," he started as he stormed into the breakroom.  Five team members laid around, draped between the linoleum floor and the hard foam couches and as green as 100kr had been.  80PLC looked unconscious.  If they hadn't been at sea, any passersby would have guessed they'd spent the last four hours on a raging, post-mission bender.  The second half of his sentence, planned as ' _fuck you all'_ , took a sharp right turn. "The _fuck_ is wrong with you lot?"

Er301 started to explain, but words didn't reach his mouth as fast as the galley pizza.  He vomited in the direction of his feet, and would have covered them if 33Ylk hadn't been sprawled there, closing her eyes and clutching her stomach in misery.  She couldn't even shoot up and slug the sonuvabitch, like she would have at any other point in time.

"Fucking hell," she groaned in lieu of an ability to take proper action.

000 grabbed her by the shirt collar to pull her out of the curdling pool before she wound up soaking in it.  "Everybody go the fuck to sleep!" he ordered, unwilling and unable to deal with the situation.  An ass chewing would be useless.  Much like 100kr, they all handled boats poorly, and nothing said to them now would hold much effect.

33Ylk tried to squirm from his grip, grabbing her nose, "Shit, you smell like an ashtray!"

Ripped from his slumber, 80PLC rocketed up and made for the door with his shirt over his nose, "We literally _just_ kicked 99 out for that!"

000 started at the five of them, who all maximized their radii from their team lead.  "The fuck?"

"Cigarettes, Chief," Er301 explained with distaste, scooting to the far end of the couch, "Arceus, that smell makes this so much fucking worse."

_Oh._

The calm of the realization passed down him like an electric shock.  100kr didn't hate him.  100kr hated the cigarette smell, since the cigarette smell wasn't doing a damn thing for his seasickness.

"Oh," he muttered, dropping 33Ylk back to the ground.

Well, he might still hate 000.  At least he'd hear out an apology instead of shirking away if 000 could change and wash the smell out of him.  Hopefully.

She picked herself up and followed 80PLC for the door, Mot7 following her.  "Ugh, you need to quit."

"You all need to get the fuck out of my sight and go be useless in your own damn cabins," 000 snapped back, "Go be sick somewhere the crew doesn't get uppity at me over it!"

The team picked themselves up and headed in the direction of the stairs, their supervisor following them to shoe them out.  Abj7 hadn't been part of their misery party, 000 would have to put some effort into locating him.  Or maybe he'd fallen overboard in a squall, saving the trouble of straightening out his timesheet.  000 hoped for the latter.

He made it halfway down the hall before the captain reappeared, barging through the galley doors with a vomit-covered RK99 by the collar.

000 could only slap his forehead with the palm of his hand.  "What's the problem now?"

The captain shoved the agent at him, forcing 000 to half dodge to avoid the vomit.  "This one threw up in the recycling bin."

"Great aim, I see," 000 grumbled, holding RK99 at arm's length.  The dramamine only worked halfway on him, he wobbled about in a daze and yet still had the nausea.

"Do you realize," the captain pointed an accusing finger at him, "That we now cannot recycle that material, and will have to pay for it to go in _general trash_ at port?  Do you realize how much more expensive another fifty pounds of trash will be?"

 _You can't tell me these idiots are capable of sorting out fifty pounds worth of recycling_ , 000 wanted to say.  He lacked anything tactful to say really, and settled for "Just bill the International Police for it."

"I _intend_ to," the Captain snorted, retreating back to the galley for a late dinner.

000 groaned audibly.  The International Police would _never_ send a team home by cargo freighter again.  It didn't matter how many incident reports 000 had to write next week.  This would never be an option again.

"I feel awful…" RK99 groaned, his weight shifting towards the floor.

000 yanked him up and dragged him down the hallway, knocking him half off his feet.  "Good."

That dramamine must have expired.  Maybe it was good 100kr didn't get any.  The Tapu only knew when that medic last ordered it.  Probably back in the Great War.

The comms man groaned all the way up two flights of stairs, which 000 considered punishment for his many transgressions with the room situation.  He pulled him up with less than a tenth of the care he'd given 100kr, and four times as much as he thought the agent deserved.  Until they reached the hallway and RK99 started to wretch, 000 hadn't realized the tactical error in jostiling him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," 000 panicked, shoving him down the hall.  He thought RK99 said 311.  Hopefully he went in room 311.  He was going in room 311 regardless, since 000 didn't want to be privy to whatever he'd eaten in the galley.

They made it to the door before the delirious agent vomited, straight into the front of 000 shirt.  The team lead could only stare at him in frustration, his words piling behind a rapid conflagration.  "You're failing your yearly review," he spat as he banged on the door.

THTT opened it and cocked an eyebrow, "Yes, Chief?"

000 shoved the other man at him, vomit and all.  "All yours."

The other agent caught him, though not so much to avoid a fall to the floor as slow it.  "Shit, he's not in this room."

"Don't care," 000 responded, "He's being rehomed."

He sighed and pulled pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket.  Like 000, THTT dealt with nothing before a smoke break.  000 had to admit, this warranted a smoke break, but he didn't feel like climbing the stairs again.  "The hell am I supposed to do with him?" he asked.

"Put him in the shower or something, I don't give a shit," 000 answered, gesturing at his vomit-soaked t-shirt, "I've got other shit to deal with."

THTT put a cigarette behind his ear and stared at the teammate on his floor, "Aight then.  Wanna smoke?"

The team lead shook his head, "Too shitty outside.  Try not to fall overboard."

"Suit yourself," THTT shut the door behind RK99 and followed 000 to the stairwell.

"I'm serious about the overboard," 000 mentioned as they parted ways.  The last thing he wanted to deal with tonight was a lost agent.  Plus, THTT might be the second least-useless agent on his team next to 100kr.  With any luck that meant he could smoke without becoming a casualty.

Between the vomit and the wisdom that the ashtray smell might be setting off 100kr's nausea, shower went on the to-do list for a second time that evening.  And he'd need to procure a second set of sweatpants.  T-shirts he had plenty of, but he had one pair of those and wasn't putting his slacks back on come hell or high water.  Hopefully 4590 would be out, so he could borrow a pair.  Odds were low he'd picked up his things from the middle of their floor.

Odds were low, 000 realized in fury, that he'd make it in the room at all to steal a pair of sweatpants.  4590 locked the door, in his infinite wisdom.  In any other not-covered-in-vomit situation, 000 would have been _impressed_ that the agent managed to come in and pass out cold in the time it took the team lead to smoke and clear the rec room.  

In this situation, 000 grew redder with every bang on the door.  That sonofabitch had the _gall_ to complain about 000's snoring in Ilex, and yet couldn't wake up to a man attempting to break the door down.   _Why_ the doors even locked fell far beyond 000's comprehension.  Even with the unwanted guests, there weren't more than thirty people on the ship.  A theft investigation would take forty-five minutes, tops.  There was _no reason_ to have locks on the doors.

000 would write a _thousand_ incident reports to never travel by ship again.

"Sableye, open the door!" he ordered, banging on it.  Even his pokemon with opposable thumbs was useless, "C'mon!"

He'd also settle for it setting off nightshade in the room, but 4590 probably wouldn't wake up to that either.  "Open this door!"

"Shut the fuck up!" one of the crewmembers yelled, sticking his head out from a room down the hall, "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

000 rolled his eyes and gave the crewman the finger as soon as the door shut, but otherwise stopped.   The room was out of the question unless he could break the door down.  He had nothing to pick the lock with.

The third floor held a laundry facility, somewhere.  He strained to remember where as he stared at the vomit splatter on his shirt, but the ship wasn't that big.  That would take care of the shirt and the sweatpants.  THTT could loan him the shower, since he smelled like cigarettes and another man's vomit.  Then he needed to handle Abj7s timesheet before the sonuvabitch passed out cold like 4590, and then he could at least check on 100kr (even though he had no dramamine to gift him).  Odds were low he slept through this mess, in light of 000 waking up the hallway.

The agent gave his t-shirt a sniff and winced.  Vomit aside, he did need the shower.  The cotton reeked of ashtray.

\--

The washroom had one of those washer/drier monstrosities that took 000 a ten full minutes to figure out.  The buttons were in Unovan and the corresponding pictures made no sense.  One looked like bacon, another a snowflake, a third might have been a house… the fourth was definitely a bra, which served to confuse him even further.  He guessed house/bra/bacon after stripping down to his boxers and stuffing everything in, and the LEDs displayed '01:16'.  With any luck that included a dry cycle.

That gave him enough time, at least, to find a shower and scrub the cigarette smell off.  Maybe the second shower was a good idea in general, his first had been a bit lackluster.  Who knows how sensitive 100kr's nose could be.  000 couldn't smell anything, not with the pack a day habit that fried his receptors.

RK99 was still vomiting in THTT's shower, the team lead realized as he slid back into his loafers and grabbed his wallet (lest some member of the crew decide to steal his stack of fake IDs, shallow limit credit cards, or p150 in cash).  Chucking the ill and delirious comms man out for his own shower time could turn into a mess.  Moreover, towels seemed to be in short supply, and 000's was locked in his room with his useless sableye and 4590.  If he could get another towel he wouldn't be wandering a hallway in boxers in the first place.

And if the International Police had the decency to send his team home on a fucking commercial flight, he could be wandering in boxers somewhere in 100kr's apartment right now instead of in a cargo ship's quarters.  100kr probably kept extra towels.  He seem like the type of person who owned two sets of towels.  000 could have a towel and a date that wasn't off puking all over a different bathroom, if only his employer wasn't _cheap_.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door next to THTT's instead.  In worst case scenario, it was a crew member.  The crew already hated the team on principal.  Their lead trying to hunt up a vomit-free shower would be the least of the International Police's offenses tonight.  It fell so low on the totem pole of offenses he might get the shower.

To his otherwise-absentee luck, Abj7 answered the knock with a "Whaddya want?"

Perfect- time to exercise his position as the most senior agent on the mission, 000 decided.

"What the _shit_ Chief?!" Abj7 shot straight up when 000 barged in (thankfully, the agent was too stupid to use the lock), throwing an implicating magazine at the wall and covering himself with a blanket.

000 ignored the act he'd likely walked in.  The agent could put that on hold for a few minutes.  Couldn't have been that good of a porno mag anyway if he didn't bother to lock the door for it.  "I need your shower."

"Why are you naked?"

"Why can't you write a legible timesheet?" 000 snapped, remembering his initial task from the evening and throwing the folded up timesheet at the agent from his wallet, "It's like you don't want to get paid!"

"My handwriting isn't that bad," Abj7 retorted, making no effort to reach where the paper had fallen a few feet short of the bed, lest he lose the blanket.  "You're too used to doing 100kr's timesheets."

"And he's the most junior agent here, so that should say something about all of you," 000 grumbled, heading into the bathroom.

"Hey, don't use my towel!  Take the one on the right!" the agent panicked.

"Fine.  Who else is in this room?"

"80PLC."

Who had disappeared from the rec room half an hour ago.  "Where the fuck did he go?" 000 asked, leaning his head out the door.

Abj7 shrugged, "I dunno."

"Whatever, I don't care," he shook his head, shutting the door.  The lot of them aside from 100kr could drown for all 000 cared.

He snatched a tube of toothpaste of the sink as he started the water.  000 came up with a little trick growing up under the watchful eyes of the Kahunas- if he lathered himself in toothpaste, he could hide the smoke smell.  It was designed to take away bad breath smell after all.  Cigarette smoke paled in comparison.  For the low price of a cheap tube and an extra fifteen minutes at a beach shower, he and the other Alolan teens could pass through festivals with none of the adults the wiser.

The more he thought through the plan and rubbed peppermint goo into his hair, the more he realized that this trick might not hold the test of time.  The perception and wit of a sixteen-year-old paled a bit in comparison to his thirty-five-year-old iteration.  They hadn’t been fooling anyone back in the day, just deluded their idiot teenage iterations that they were sneaky.

And besides, hair held something to the effect of thirty years of cigarette residue these days.

"Better than nothing," 000 grumbled to himself as he stepped in the shower.

Granted, as the toothpaste refused to rinse out of his hair, the agent started to rethink why he was doing any of this at all.  100kr was a junior agent that occasionally tagged along on 000's missions.  000 had dozens of those.  They'd hooked up, yeah, and the agent tended to keep that behavior to older agents and folks he didn't work with (more the latter the older and senior he became), but it wasn't _out of the question_.  He'd never gone through any length for a second round, certainly never shampoo-hair-with-toothpaste-in-someone-else's-bathroom distances.   Hell, he and a senior agent had an ongoing thing back in the day, and 000 still balked on his retirement party.

100kr _shouldn't_ have been any different, and yet somehow he always had been.  000 had a thousands chances before they drank too much in Snowpoint to do that.  He couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger, ever.  The junior agent was a goofy try-hard new recruit with a pretty face and a good sense of humor.  No method of trigger pull seemed sufficient for that.  

000 shrugged and let the residual toothpaste wash off him.  100kr deserved better, and 000 had been himself and failed to offer it.  He'd deserved actual dates and an actual significant other, and 000 came to that conclusion weeks ago (even if he didn’t realize it).  Treating him like a quick lay had been _cruel,_ at best.  The senior agent fell leagues short of that mark.  He'd fallen leagues short of that mark when they'd fucked around in Snowpoint, since he had the whole evening to do figure out something besides 'get drunk'.

Well no, it had been fucking freezing in Snowpoint.  But 000 could have _said_ something at dinner.  Or picked up the check.  

Fucking the junior agent _without_ some sort of preemptive romantic gesture just made it apparent that 100kr had actually deserved it.  In every other hookup 000 managed, there was the unspoken agreement that both parties aimed to get off, and the other person was involved to facilitate that.  000 never minded.  That was how it was and always had been, until he'd decided to sleep with junior agent 100kr, who tried about as hard to please 000 in the hotel room as he did on the mission.  

Granted, unlike at work, the man didn't have the faintest idea he was doing.  He’d been entirely too much tongue, frozen touches, and awkward pauses to think through what to do next.  It was adorable on a level 000 hadn't expected. 100kr chased any feedback he'd provide (mostly moaning, at various decibel levels that no doubt pissed off the guests on their floor) with raucous enthusiasm. 100kr _genuinely_ wanted to be with 000, he didn't come incidental with getting off.  Seeing him finally come apart was something of an accomplishment, after the effort he put into keeping himself together just for the senior agent.

And _that_ part had been fun in its own right. 100kr's muscle wasn't for show, he could pound like a freight engine once he forgot to try.  The junior agent's brain had switched into high gear (somewhere around the time 000 found his voice managed to request harder), and the team lead found himself wrapped in the other man until he finished with a cracked yelp.  000 could reflect on the bruises for weeks afterwards.

Heat started to pool between 000's legs, and he had to catch himself before he unconsciously reached down to do something about it.  This was Abj7's shower, the agent in question _right outside_.  While he might be doing similar (probably doing similar), 000 had to have some limit.  100kr couldn't make him slip _that_ far.

Well he'd done worse before, but those incidents had been as a younger, stupider agent.

Granted, the speed at which the memory could get him off was embarrassing in its own right, he'd be done long before the other agent.  000 blamed that one on the work schedule.  He hadn't been with anyone since 100kr five… no wait, six months ago.  It was to be expected that it didn't take _much._

Really though, for the love of the Tapu, this wasn't even his assigned shower.  He flipped the water all the way to cold and bit his lip to keep back a yelp.

Abj7 was asleep, porno mag draped over his stomach, when 000 threw his boxers back on and tiptoed out.  80PLC was nowhere to be seen, and the team lead made a mental note that he needed to check in on that after he checked up on 100kr.  The junior agent sick on fourth floor took absolute priority.  80PLC could fend for himself for another hour, 000 had enough distractions for one evening.

\--

The drier took long enough for 000 to wander downstairs in search of food.  He'd put off eating and scrounging the galley seemed the responsible thing to do with the remaining twenty-six minutes of bacon cycle.  Since mealtime ended some hours ago, his spoils summed to a banana and a container of orange juice, the latter he decided to bring to 100kr.  The agent would need fluid after vomiting that much and this ship was skimpy on the waterbottles.

His clothes did dry, thank Bulu, and the smell of cigarettes and vomit seemed to have vanished.  000 couldn't tell.  For certainties sake, he rubbed them down with a dryer sheet before pulling them on.  He stuffed a few dryer sheets in his boxers as well, just in case the smoke smell permeated that far.  After thirty years, who knew how strong it was or what it seeped into.  The scratch against his hips fell into the 'slightly more than irritating' category, but 000 could suck it up.  100kr deserved 000's mere presence not inciting the nausea.

100kr, to 000's eternal thanks to Bulu, hadn't locked his door.  The team lead had expected a need to knock, though he gave the doorknob a try on a whim.  The junior agent in question jolted upright as the door swung open faster than 000 had intended.

He hadn't meant for that much of an entrance, whoops.  "Just checking on you," 000 muttered in apology as he shut the door behind him as fast as possible.

100kr's face twisted in the bathroom light, the sleep not quite passed.  Before either man could say anything else, the junior agent through a hand over his mouth and lunged out of bed for the bathroom.  000 hurried behind him, listening to the man gag over the toilet.

At least he hadn't vomited that time.  That seemed like improvement.  This would all be easier with a little dramamine though, even expired dramamine.  The team lead was going to kill every other useless IP agent that couldn't buy their own fucking dramamine.

"No better, huh?" 000 asked as he sat in the doorway, getting comfortable in preparation of a few hours of this.  He could at least give 100kr's misery some company.  100kr deserved it.

"Not while this still moves," he groaned between gags.  The color had drained from his face, leaving him as pale as 000.  His arms shook a bit, and even holding his neck up seemed like actual effort.  The senior agent very much wanted to wrap around him and hold him until the ship stopped rocking.

That would probably blow over poorly.  000 settled for a pat on the back and a lingering hand on the shoulder in an attempt at comfort.  "I suppose not."

100kr groaned in agreement, leaning his forehead on the toilet rim. His misjudged the distance and earned a hideous smack, which 000 had to imagine radiated pain straight through him.  The sound of skull on ceramic sent a wave of sympathy pain through the team lead.  That would smart tomorrow.

Maybe 100kr would be better off on his bed, throwing up into a trashcan.  While admirable that, in this state, he kept his bodily fluids confined to a flushable container, the bed was soft.  The junior agent wouldn't injure himself.  Or worse, drown, in the event he threw 000 out of the room and no one could pull his head from a toilet.

000 tried to not consider that possibility.

"C'mon I brought you some juice," he encouraged the other agent, pulling him off the toilet by his shoulder, "You need to drink something."

100kr acquiesced to 000 pulling him to his feet and leading him out the door by his arm.  The motion of the ship still perturbed the junior agent- 000 could tell the ship still rocked just based on his staunch refusal to move with it as they shuffled to his bed.  The team lead tried to hold back a laugh.  If 100kr wasn't so rigid, he wouldn't be so nauseous.

000 pulled the juice from his pocket and fumbled with the cap.  The lids on these bottles were always too damn complicated, worse than a child lock on an ibuprofen bottle.  "Who'd they stick you with anyway?" he asked, noting the lack of roommate.  Somebody should have returned to this room.  If 000 had to chase the remaining agents out of the rec room again tonight, they'd all drown before morning.

He passed off the bottle to 100kr, who took a small sip before stopping and rubbing at his eye.  000 cursed himself.  He didn't even know if the man liked orange juice.  Water would have been a better choice.  Really, he should have come here and determined 100kr’s opinion on beverages, since 000 had no Tapu-damned idea.

"33Ylk," 100kr responded lowly, "The captain objected to a mixed-gender cabin per company policy and moved her elsewhere, however."

"Shit so you're by yourself?!" 000 burst, right as the ship hit a bad wave.  The shock of a wave strong enough to knock the Alolan off-balance blanked his better judgement, and he grabbed onto 100kr's thigh to steady himself.

RK99 was _never_ coming on a mission with him again, 000 decided as he quickly released the other agent.  He shouldn't have done that.  He still didn't know if 100kr hated him.  He needed 100kr not to hate him, because at the very least now he needed a new regular comms man.

Well, he hadn't looked at him with disdain just yet.  In fact, this was the most content 100kr had been in 000's presence since their failed makeout attempt.  Given the nausea, that probably meant something.  Maybe.

"I'm going to kill RK99," the team lead grumbled, regretting he didn’t put 100kr at comms and left his ass home.  Well, no, he did not regret not putting 100kr on comms, since 100kr found all the entrances into the base. "I'd rather he stuck me with you anyway."

Might as well admit to it.  He certainly hadn’t gone through that evening to play romantic chicken with a man who struggled to hold his head up. The worst 100kr could say was 'get out', and 000 could always do that sooner than later.

"That is… unfortunate," 100kr muttered, wincing and squeezing at his eyebrows, "You could stay here if you require it."

000 tried to process the offer- was he being invited in, or was it 100kr's general pleasantries?  The agent could be over-generous to a fault.  After all, he let 000 lead him back to his room while the team lead did nothing but aggravate the seasickness.  The wincing threw him off guard, until 000 noticed his attempt to block his face from the bathroom light.  "I might do that.  Head bugging you too?"

100kr nodded before going back to the juice.  At least he didn't hate orange juice, 000 hadn't bungled that one.  "Migraine."

Well shit, 000 could have wrestled some ibuprofen out of the useless ass of a medic.  The predicament made sense though, his head had been sloshed as hard as his stomach in this storm.  Hesitating an instant, 000 wrapped an arm around the junior agent, noting that this might qualify as rock-bottom for flirting.  "Cripes.  Shit way to travel, huh?"

100kr leaned into him a bit.  Or maybe that was 000’s imagination.  He didn't pull away, not like in the bathroom earlier, at least.

"About as soon as I got done with you, Er301 threw up on 33Ylk and then Rk99 had the poor sense to be sick into a recycle bin, so I had to hear about that," 000 babbled.  He didn't know what to do with the silence and didn't have an apology drafted yet.  He tended to not run his mouth when nervous.  100kr had done something to his head.  "And 4590 and Abj7 have been moaning since this damn thing took off, though they're both at least out now. THTT is still up somewhere, hope the motherfucker doesn't fall overboard trying to smoke. Got waves crashing over the main deck."

"Everyone is sick?" 100kr asked, leaning closer.  On further thought, maybe the waves knocked him there, but he didn’t draw back.

000 ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to pull it out as he recalled the debacle of his evening, "About damn near all of them.  Sorry, I was going to bring this by a while ago and had to deal with the rest of them.  Fuckers should have flown us home…"

Actually, he was planning to bring dramamine but orange juice was a close second.

The team lead let his words fall, trying to compose the next half of his thought.   _And I'm sorry I fucked you about six months ago and then disappeared, didn't mean for that to happen_.  Somehow, the thought didn't vocalize.

100kr beat him to speaking, relaxing into the other agent.  "You are okay?"

"Grew up on an island. I'm used to this shit," 000 said with the closest thing to a laugh he'd come to this entire shit evening, "Still, this one's worse than most."

"Perhaps that is reassuring," 100kr responded as he took another drink, "...I wish this did not hurt."

 _Right._  000 was flirting (horrendously) with a man on the cusp of misery.   He should let the man go to bed, and then find a way back into his own room.  Or stay here.  If 33Ylk had left a complete set of sheets in the pile on the floor, he could climb into the top bunk.  The Tapus only knew what coated the mattress, he wouldn't be doing that without sheets though.  

"Not much to do besides sleep it off," the team lead shrugged, removing his arm from around 100kr and instead sifting through the pile of spare linens 33Ylk had left. Nothing but towels and pillowcases.

How did 100kr manage to get all the towels in his room?  000 didn’t even have a washcloth.

He debated swiping a few, just to _have_ a spare towel, when the ship crashed against wave and sent him flying off balance.  He smacked into 100kr, sending him flat on his back.  The junior agent groaned, 000 must have hit the very sensitive area of his stomach too hard.   _Fuck_.

Lying on him felt nice though.  In the split second before the team lead remembered that 100kr was holding a bottle of orange juice and threatening to vomit, he debating just laying there.  "Shit, sorry about that," he grumbled before getting up.

Even if 100kr didn't hate him, 000 shouldn't lie on the poor bastard's stomach.  That could wait for port and an apology.

"It… it is all right," 100kr groaned, the wind knocked out of him.

Remembering the flying coffee from earlier, 000 grabbed the juice bottle out of his hand and put it on the desk before the two found themselves covered in orange juice.  He stood, eyeing one of the extra pillowcases on the floor.  That could at least do _something_ for 100kr's head, since 000 just ensured that would be a lost cause.  A wet washcloth did wonders for 000's headaches (achieved after long evenings of herding IP agents).  "Lie down, I'll get you tucked in."

And a pillowcase would do, since washcloths ran as rare as towels on this stupid ship and 100kr's was covered in vomit flecks.  He ran the pillowcase under the sink while 100kr crawled into bed, groaning the entire time.  The ship kept rocking, 000 noticed for a change.  They must have hit the worst of the storm.  000 needed to go check on the rest of the team, to make sure they weren't contaminating the rest of the ship.  And by needing to, 000 tried to think of any other reason he could put that off as he killed the bathroom light.  Out of sight, out of mind.

Maybe he could just stay with 100kr.  He’d offered.

"You do not need the light?" 100kr asked.

"I'll be alright without it," 000 shrugged.  He'd been trial captain in a cave back in his youth.  He and Sableye spent a lot of time in pitch dark.  The cabin wasn't that big to begin with, he could feel the bed with his outstretched hand in about half a step from the bathroom.  After a second of mental debate, he sat down next to 100kr and prayed to Bulu the man didn't hate him. 

"Here, this always helps me," he mumbled, putting the wet pillowcase over 100kr's eyes.

He made a quick second prayer to Bulu that cold water took away the bite from a headache for other people.   000 had no idea.  In the event it didn’t work, 000 gave the agent the fastest and most awkward consolation hug imaginable, considering he sat prepped to jump out of the bed and 100kr flat on his back.  It seemed an appropriate enough course of action; people showed affection that way.  Hugs didn't usually involve grabbing people by the elbows, but also trips home didn't usually involve cargo freighters aimed straight through a storm.

Now 000 had to come up with an apology for disappearing.

100kr leaned into him and relaxed.  His breathing started to slow, even though his stomach made horrid gurgling sounds along with it.  The weight of the other agent against him calmed 000's mind, his apology starting to form.

 _Hey, about the last time we were together… I didn't mean to ghost on you like that, some missions came up and work got out of control_.

That disregarded the fact that they worked in the same damn building, lived in the same damn neighborhood, and 000 could have looked up his damn phone number.  In retrospect, the agent had no excuse not to say anything to 100kr.  He'd lost track of time, like the idiot workaholic he was.

Then he'd been kidnapped by Team Rocket, but that had lasted three out of the six months and really, that happened every other year.  Plus, 000 hated to admit, he'd let that first month happen to dodge working.  The other two were incidental bad luck, yeah, but the agent could have stopped it before it started.

"Just try to get some sleep," 000 mumbled instead.  Whatever, it could wait for morning.  "It'll get better once we get out of this storm."

And 000 could apologize to a man who wasn't half asleep against his lap.  He grabbed for the junior agent's hand instead.  Maybe he'd realize 000 hadn't been looking for some stupid quick lay, and maybe he'd realize that 000 had a genuine attraction to him.  And maybe he'd realize that 000 did feel bad about the ship, even though he didn’t have the sort of authority to prevent it.

If he could find 100kr's hand anyway.  It took a few tries and a few awkward grabs at the man's chest before he could locate it.   The agent cursed his bumbling in the back of his brain.  He was smoother than this.  100kr did something to his head.

The junior agent pushed against him, resting his head on 000's lap.

"Just try to sleep," 000's grumbled again. 

The ship bucked again, startling them both, and he tightened his grip.  100kr squirmed against 000, trying to get comfortable as he dozed off.  His breath slowed again and his body sunk into the team lead's.  Compared to the rest of the room and the overclocked ship AC, the junior agent felt warm.  He could double as 000's personal space heater.

000 could get used to this.  He'd never been fond of sharing a bed with anybody, and considered himself lucky his pokemon preferred the closet or underneath the bed.  The first time had been nice, yeah, though he'd assumed it was the shock and the alcohol.  The agent's hookups never stayed over if a better option presented itself.  100kr's room had been right down the hall, he'd figured that the junior agent would excuse himself when 000 said he was going to go shower.  That's how that arrangement always worked.

Except that 100kr didn't- he asked to join.  000 hadn't done that with anyone _ever_ , though there was something weirdly nice about hugging while soapy.  Probably the alcohol in the equation, he couldn't have been getting much hot water.  100kr would have blocked the showerhead.  The memory felt sweet and warm though, so maybe the logistics worked out differently than 000 thought.

After they dried off, 100kr followed him straight back to bed, much to 000 confusion.  It saved an awkward 'seeya in the morning', and honestly, he'd never fallen asleep that fast before.  Having 100kr wrapped around him felt warm and gooey and _nice._ He was like a heated blanket that remembered to bring him coffee for morning meetings and didn't fuck up comms and _wanted_ to be next to 000.

000 relaxed knowing that it felt just as gooey and warm without the booze in his system.

He was getting old.  Or maybe 100kr did something to his head.  He wasn't sure if he cared.  In the morning he'd give his apology, and either he'd go back to regular life (not great, but he'd lived it long enough not to care) or he'd get a couple more chances to fall asleep like this.  The team lead's eyelids started to heavy and let himself sink other man.

000 would appreciate the chance to fall asleep together a few more times.

The ship bucked again, knocking 000 out of his daze.  He needed to either lie down here or find a couch somewhere.  Granted, if 000 had to guess, the couches gave off the same black light signature as the mattresses and he wanted nothing to do with either.  Moreover, half his team had vomited down in the rec room.  That left the laundry room and the galley, and the captain would probably be displeased if he found the IP team lead asleep in either of those.

"Hey, 100kr, are you awake?" he asked in vain, giving his head a nudge with the back of his hand.

The junior agent stirred a bit and hummed.

Close enough.  "Can I stay here?"

Well, he _had_ offered before.

"Mhmm," 100kr replied, rolling off 000's lap.

Close enough, 000 decided with a sigh.  100kr could slug him in the morning otherwise.  Plus, it wasn't like he hadn't wound up cuddling in a bed too small with another agent before out of necessity.  100kr hadn't been around quite as long, but odds were he’d gone through the same before.  Hell, they had shared a bed together back in Snowpoint, that’s what started this all (granted… then 000 disappeared, and 100kr got weird, and then the International Police couldn’t be assed into buying plane tickets).

The team lead laid down next to him and pulled the comforter overtop both of them.  The room AC was really too high to sleep.  100kr grabbed at his hand as 000 wrapped an arm around him.

000 would appreciate the chance to fall asleep together a few more times.   Hopefully 100kr didn't mind.  Hopefully they could get off this stupid ship and fall asleep back in 000's bed in Saffron City in a few days, with no nausea or paper-thin walls or towel shortages or angry Captains or teammates.

\--

The stir in the bed brought 000 into a hazy state of awake.  100kr squirmed next to him, before half-trying to sit up.  Crap, he must have woken him by laying down, 000 panicked in half-sleep.  He was halfway on the bed himself, he probably rolled.  Why did he have to roll?  Otherwise they could both fit here, neither man was that large.  000 pulled himself against the other man, trying to free up some space.

"You feeling any better?" he asked, hoping that he hadn't disturbed 100kr's attempt to sleep off the nausea.  The ship didn't feel like it was moving anymore at least.  If the other agent fell back asleep, the sickness would pass by morning.

Or maybe it was the lack of apology that woke him up, the team lead realized.  The thought drifted across his brain that he'd forgotten about that earlier.  He had to come up with his apology, 100kr needed to go back to sleep so he wasn’t nauseous tomorrow.  The words wouldn't piece together as eloquently as they had earlier however, and they hadn’t been eloquent earlier either.

 _I'm sorry about the last few months_ , 000 started before realizing he hadn't moved his mouth.

"A bit, yes," 100kr laid back down, letting 000 pull against him.  They could both fit.  If 000 kept his grip he wouldn't roll anymore.

"That's good," the words came automatically.  A good start.  He needed to apologize next.  Sleep logic demanded he apologize now.

If he held 100kr's hand, he would get the right idea.  000 was sorry, he'd rather not disappear for months on end (not to say it wouldn't happen again, because it would, but next time he'd say something).  He'd rather be here, sleeping next to 100kr.  Maybe every night he could manage.  Maybe he was old and sappy and wanted to settle down a bit, and maybe 100kr was the person perfect for that.

Maybe he wanted to settle down  _for_ 100kr, he was the sort of man who liked settling.

Either way, 000 needed to find his hand so he could say all these things.  It wouldn't sound _right_ without that.  The issue being, 100kr's hand disappeared and all 000 could do was feel along him in sleep panic, trying to find out where his arms ended.  The agent had long arms, this search was unfair.  000 was stubby in comparison.

He located the other man's hand after what seemed like minutes, and grasped it with all the strength he could muster.  There.  Now 100kr would understand him.  Perhaps he understanding would be perfect that maybe the expressed statement could wait until morning. 100kr's back was quite comfortable to rest his head against and the agent was warm compared to the overworking ship HVAC system.  It would be a shame to waste this moment.  "Lessgo back to sleep…" he mumbled, starting to feel the lull of the ship's rock.  

This could wait for morning, 100kr understood enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no explanation of why I did this, besides the fact that January was the culmination of about 6 months of pure hell for me and I need to vent.
> 
> I have no explanation as to why it's 12000 words either.

**Author's Note:**

> At this point I have to think there's people who stumble through the Looker/Nanu tag and think to themselves "Why is there so much god damned vomit?!". 
> 
> In other news I'm stuck on a ship attempting to outrun Tropical-whatever Nate right now and I've had enough fun with hurricanes this year actually.
> 
> Many thanks to Brick for the grammar edits.


End file.
